Dean X Male Reader One Shots

Moonlight

You lay on the horn for a third time and a dark figure finally stumbles out of the brightly lit bar. You called me like 10 minutes ago jackass. I got customers to pick up. The drunken man notices the lit up placard of the taxi and stumbles towards you fumbling with the latch of the back door before he finally manages to slide in.

"Where to drunkard?" You ask dryly as he squints at you through the rearview mirror. He mumbles off the address and you nod in acknowledgement flicking the switch to start your meter. You start towards the address he gave you and you can hear him fumbling around in his pockets until he finally finds what he's looking for. At a red light you glance up at the rearview mirror and you catch his face in the light of a streetlamp. He's roguishly handsome, haggard, and looks exhausted. With a face like that you wonder why he's so drunk he can barely stand up and why he's alone. The light turns green and you continue on hearing him tapping at his phone screen with clumsy fingers until he either achieves his goal or gives up. You pull into a parking spot in front of his building and stop the meter

"It's $12.05," You say as you come to a stop. He digs into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out his wallet. He squints in the darkness trying to see what's there before you turn on the overhead dome light nearly blinding him.

"Thanks," He grunts, pawing through his wallet for the cash. You can see his face more clearly now. His eyes are a candy apple green and his hair is a light brown. His skin is dappled with freckles and there are small scars marking some parts of his face. He looks up and catches you staring but is either too drunk to notice or doesn't care as he hands you $13. You nod in thanks and watch him get out of the car only to fall flat on his face on the pavement. You hold in a laugh as you get out of the car and go around to the other side where he's struggling to pick himself up.

"You alright dude?" You ask as you help him pick himself up. He wipes a little bit of blood off of his face and looks up at you. He squints against the light of the streetlamp silhouetting your head.

"Yeah, just tripped over the curb." He slurs trying to regain his footing. He nearly falls again but you catch him just in time. You sigh and sit him down on the concrete sidewalk where he falls flat onto his back staring up at the starless velvet of the night sky. You turn off the meter and take the key out of the ignition, locking the car and stuffing the keys into your pocket. You grab the dude by the arm, pulling him up to his feet where you loop his arm around your shoulders. You help him stumble into the apartment building, the guy manning the front desk just looks sad when he spots the two of you.

"Apartment 415," He says pointing towards the elevator. You give him a nod of appreciation and pull the drunkard toward the elevator. He leans heavily on you, his eyes slipping closed with every breath.

"Stay awake dingus. I can't carry you to your apartment. I'm not made of that much muscle mass." He blinks at you as the elevator dings and the doors crack open to reveal a surprised woman looking to get out on the ground floor.

"Dean?? What have you done to yourself??" She steps out of the elevator and takes his sleepy face into her hands.

" 'S nuthin Charlie 'm fine." He slurs, clearly not ok. She looks sharply over at you next her eyes steely with suspicion.

"And who are you? His drinking buddy?" You shake your head in the negative causing her to cock her head in confusion.

"I'm just the taxi driver ma'am. He fell flat on his face trying to get out of the car so I helped him in. I was gonna get him up to his apartment and then be on my way." She makes a noise that seems to be a sign she has accepted your answer. She thumps Dean lightly on the forehead and scolds him for getting so drunk he can't stand up but he doesn't seem to be paying attention. She finally moves out of the way so you can get him into the elevator. He loses his footing and reaches a hand out to steady himself so he doesn't fall face first into the elevator wall. You lean him up against the wall and press the button for floor four letting your shoulders have a break.

"So, Dean huh?" He doesn't say anything, just nods his head slightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, seeming to be in some kind of pain. "You good dude?"

"Headache." His voice is rough and sends a thrill right through your body. The elevator slows to a stop and the doors roll open with a ding to a brightly lit hallway with ugly ass carpet. You take him by the arm and help him walk to his apartment door where he struggles to dig the keys out of his pocket. You stick your hand into his jacket pocket and his body is warm against yours as your heads brush together. Your fingers grasp the keys and you pull them out. The keyhole is scratched from where his drunken hands struggled to get the key in. You slot the key in and turn the lock opening the door to a darkened apartment. You reach for a light switch and he stops you before your fingers can get there.

"Don wan you see da mess." He mumbles and starts pulling you towards the back of the apartment where you assume his bedroom is. He face plants onto his bed and immediately begins snoring. You chuckle and do more than your job ever requires by taking his shoes off of him and covering him with a blanket making sure he won't aspirate if he throws up.

"Fuck!" You bark as you whack right into the doorway. You reach for the nearest wall trying to find the lightswitch. Flicking it on a rather nice apartment comes into view, but it's clear the state the owner of said apartment is in. There are dirty dishes piled high in the sink and there is an overflowing dirty laundry hamper sitting in a neglected laundry room. There are a bouquet of rather nice looking lilies on the dining room table with a card sitting at the bottom of the vase. You approach the table and pick the card up reading it over.

Dean,

Please accept my deepest condolences on the loss of your brother. I hope that these lilies can bring you just a spark of life in such a sad time where Sam is no longer with us. Bobby and I are both thinking of you and if you need anything call us.

Jody

You set the card back in its original spot a little shocked. No wonder this guy is shitfaced drunk. His brother just died. This is his way of grieving. You spot a notepad sitting astray on the kitchen counter and walk over to it taking up a pen that's lying nearby.

Hey,

I'm the taxi driver that dropped you off and got you up to your apartment. I'm sorry about your brother. If you ever need anything just give me a call. You leave your number on the notepad and walk out of the apartment making sure that the door locks behind you. Making your way back down to your taxi, you see its still intact. You get into it and shut the door pushing the key into the ignition.

"Wow, what a life." You mumble to yourself as the engine turns over and you pull out into traffic.